style,” and it was pompous, windy, and without too much in the way of
literary merit.
The Mimbrates adore that shop-worn convention, however, and even to
this day they’ll quote long passages of Davoul’s epic every time they
get a chance. I’ve got a copy of the silly thing, if you want to
borrow it, but I wouldn’t waste my time, if I were you.
By the evening of the second day of the battle, I had everyone in
position, and all we were doing was waiting for Beldin. Pol flew out
to have a look just before dawn of the third day, and she reported back
that Eldrig’s war-boats were coming upriver. The River Arend was in
flood stage because of all the rain, however, and the current was
definitely slowing him down.
Pol, the twins, and I had decided that there wasn’t much point in
remaining in the city now. The Mimbrates knew what they were supposed
to do, and they didn’t need guidance. Beltira went east to march with
the Algars, Drasnians, and Ulgos while Belkira went up into the fairly
extensive forest lying to the north to join Brand.
Don’t waste your time looking for those woods. They aren’t there
anymore.
We chopped them down shortly after the battle was over. I disapprove
of chopping down trees as a general rule, but we needed a lot of
firewood in a hurry.
We still weren’t entirely certain just how stringent the prohibitions
the Necessities had imposed on us really were, so we rather tentatively
nibbled around the edges of them. We were fairly sure that we wouldn’t
be permitted to turn all the Angaraks into frogs, but there didn’t seem
to be anything preventing the one thing we really needed. As long as I
could speak with the twins and Beldin, we’d be able to coordinate
things, and we didn’t need anything else. This third day was going to
be settled on the ground, so we didn’t need exotic displays of our
talents to confuse matters.
Pol and I flew north and perched in a tree at the edge of Brand’s woods
to keep an eye on the Angaraks while we all waited for it to get light.
As dawn slowly crept up the eastern sky, we were able to make out more
and more details of Zedar’s deployment. He’d moved his people around
during the night. Torak knew what was coming as well or better than we
did, and Zedar’d made preparations for it.
Ad Rak Cthoros, the bulky, grim-faced king of Cthol Murgos, was now on
the left flank. A lot of the soldiers in the world wear chain mail the
same as the Murgos do, so Ad Rak Cthoros had ordered his men to paint
their mail shirts red for purposes of identification on the
battlefield.
It made them look as it they’d been dipped in blood, but I guess it
served its purpose.
The Malloreans, who were by far the most numerous members of Kal
Torak’s army, were solidly planted in the center, and they were
commanded by generals from Mal Zeth, although it was Zedar who was
giving all the orders, and Zedar was getting his orders from Torak
himself.
Torak liked to think of himself as a military genius, but how much
intelligence does it take to overwhelm your opponents with sheer
numbers?
Yar Lek Thun of Gar og Nadrak and Gethel Mardu of Thulldom held the
right flank. I don’t think I’d have done it that way. The legions and
Eldrig’s Chereks were going to be coming from that direction, and,
although the Nadraks are fairly good warriors despite the fact that
they’re a bit high strung, Thulls aren’t very dependable once the
fighting starts.
“Why don’t you wake everybody up, father?” Pol suggested.
“I guess we might as well,” I agreed.
“Belkira,” I sent out my thought.
“Let’s get started. Tell Brand to blow his horn.”
He didn’t bother to answer, but I’m sure he got my message, because a
moment or so later, Brand’s deep-toned horn sounded a long, haunting
note. Then, a minute later, Cho-Ram’s silver-voiced trumpet answered
from the east, and then Mandor’s horn sang out from inside the walls of
Vo Mimbre. Pol and I listened carefully for several minutes, but
Beldin didn’t respond. He wasn’t in place yet.
A scholar at the University of Tol Honeth once wrote a long
dissertation about the mythic significance of those horn blasts, but
they weren’t really anything but announcements that the various forces
were in place and ready. Nothing was going to happen until Beldin
answered. We certainly weren’t going to start without him.
I’m sure that Zedar knew what the horn blasts meant. We’d used those
same signals during the War of the Gods. The sounds, coming just as it
was starting to get light, made the leaders of the various Angarak
forces nervous, though, and the Malloreans began to bang their swords
against their shields and shout war cries. I guess that noisy racket
was supposed to hearten everybody. It sounded just a little desperate
to me, though. Horn blasts are a traditional signal to attack, but
nobody was attacking. I can see where that might get on somebody’s
nerves, can’t you?
We waited for about another half hour. Then, just as the sun was
coming up, I called to Belkira.
“Have him try it again, brother,” I said.
Brand blew his horn again, and Cho-Ram and Mandor answered.
Then we waited. Still no sound from Beldin. I could have called out
to him, but Zedar certainly would have heard me, and, far more
important, he’d have heard my twisted brother’s reply, and that would
have pinpointed Beldin’s location. If he were still several leagues
away, Zedar might decide to attack, either to the east or the north,
and that’d have started things before I was ready.
Nadraks, as I said, are high-strung people, and Yar Lek Thun reached
the point that he absolutely had to know what was going on. He sent a
cavalry troop pounding toward the woods to the north. They galloped in
among the trees about a half mile from where Pol and I waited.
Most of their horses came back after a while, but none of the Nadraks
did. It’s not a good idea to ride into a forest where Asturian archers
are lying in wait.
Then, probably not to be outdone, since Murgos don’t much care for
Nadraks, Ad Rak Cthoros also sent out scouts. The Murgo horsemen rode
up into the foothills to the east.
They didn’t come back, either. Riding into the teeth of Algarian
cavalry is almost as stupid as riding in among trees where Asturians
are hiding.
We kept on waiting. After another half hour or so, I tried once
more.
“Have him tootle again, Belkira,” I sent out the thought.
“Tootle?” Belkira sounded slightly offended, but Brand tried it
again.
Cho-Ram and Mandor answered immediately, and then after a moment that
seemed to last for a year or so, a veritable fanfare of trumpets
replied from the west. It was probably excessive, but some of those
legions were ceremonial troops from the garrison in Tol Honeth, and I
guess there were a couple of military bands in their ranks.
That was what I’d been waiting for.
“Sit tight, Pol,” I told my daughter.
“I’m going to go have a look. I don’t want to start anything until
I’ve seen for myself that Beldin’s in place.”
“Don’t be too long, father. The morning’s wearing on, and I don’t
think we want Brand to issue his challenge after the sun goes down.”
I spread my wings and swooped down off my limb to gain momentum, and
then I started up into the air, flapping vigorously.
When I got up a couple hundred feet, I could see just about
everything.
Eldrig’s war-boats were moored to the north bank of the River Arend no
more than a couple of miles downstream from Vo Mimbre. The high water
had slowed their progress upriver, but it had also made it possible for
them to row over the shallows that lie some distance west of the city.
If he’d really wanted to, Beldin could have rowed right up to the south
wall of Vo Mimbre itself.
The legions, their burnished breastplates glinting in the morning sun,
were spread out impressively, and they were marching in perfect order
as they advanced on the Nadraks and Thulls. Eldrig’s berserkers
weren’t marching. They were running on ahead of the legions. Chereks
hate sharing a good fight with anybody.
“All right, Belkira.” I passed the word.
“Tell Brand to give the signal.”
This time Brand blew his horn twice. Cho-Ram answered in the same way.
Mandor, however, almost blew his heart out. The note from his horn
went on and on and on.
Then the gates of Vo Mimbre crashed open, and the knights came charging
out.
The charge of the Mimbrate knights is probably the most famous cavalry